


Eternity

by Barcelona_Avenue



Series: That which was and always will be [1]
Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 17:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10140917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barcelona_Avenue/pseuds/Barcelona_Avenue
Summary: An eternity is a very long time. Even for an ageless creature of beauty and grace.





	

The night was cold, the day had been long, and the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation. Knowing the audience were tense with focus, waiting with baited breaths, he lingered in his tent for a moment or so longer than was absolutely necessary. When he felt the very air alight with electricity from the crowd, he finally stepped out onto the stage. Moonlight filtered through faceted ice columns illuminated his frame as if it were made of a thousand glittering diamonds. A whisper of snow coated his shoulders and eyelashes, falling about him sensually as he crossed the floor. One bare foot stepped in front of the other, the bells around his ankles chiming with his calculated steps in a delicate rhythm. His hair, a blonde as bright and white as the snow upon his shoulders, cascaded down the length of his body and pooled at his feet. It was softly tousled, draping across his shoulders and caressing his smooth, alabaster skin. Gifted trinkets and tokens of love and admiration were tied into his hair at various intervals.  Across his body he wore a cloth that was draped in a tantalisingly erotic fashion, exposing areas of skin around his delicate hips. The shimmering, pale blue fabric left his neck and shoulders bare, before travelling across his long, elegant arms and ending with a train of cloth that mingled with his hair on the ground. Though the garment extended to his mid-calves, leaving his adorned ankles visible, it was split up his sides to the thigh. Tiny bells on the end of his fingers tinkled in the still, brisk night – indicating the beginning of his performance. His lips parted slightly, pink and moist against his porcelain skin, and his eyes rose slowly to meet those of another in the audience. They lingered there for a moment…and then another. This was most unexpected. The atmosphere instantly shifted to one of silent envy. To everyone else but the one who held his gaze, the world as it was known came crashing to a halt. Had he finally chosen?

It was so very quiet, not even a breath could be heard – only the gentle whispers of the wind interrupted the moment.

_Tink._

His hands began to move, the bells ringing in response.

_Tink._

They weaved their way upwards until they met above his head.

_Tink._

He drew a breath as a snowflake fell against his lips.

_Tink._

Then it began.

All at once the tension was shattered as he drew a circle with one foot fast and low along the ground, before twirling around with expert precision and landing with a graceful vault –accomplished without ever touching his hands upon the ground.

Snow and dust exploded around his feet as he danced – his music existing only through the rhythm of his movements and the singing of his bells. His expression was of such intensity one couldn’t be sure whether or not he was smiling or glowering. It was considered impossible to stare into those eyes for any great length of time. Only now, as he danced, he never broke contact with that one individual – his clear chosen.

The snow began to fall a little heavier, catching in the dancer’s glimmering hair and dusting across his heated cheeks. His breath puffed out in little clouds in the frigid air, but still he danced on. Whirling about, leaping gracefully, and stamping his feet into the ground – he danced. His hair flew about his form with every change of movement. He was mesmerising, the most beautiful creature in the universe. He was special, and yet untouchable.

The legend was that no person had ever laid hands upon his skin other than himself. He was _the_ prize worth fighting for. Though he’d been handed from kingdom to kingdom, gifted as an offering to countless kings and emperors – never had a single one been able to touch him. He was powerful and frightening, yet enslaved and imprisoned. All the same – he was _beautiful._

His dancing had brought ecstasy to many, but it was said that if he ever looked into another’s eyes for longer than a moment, he would own that person’s soul. Except, there would come a day when he would gaze upon the face of a stranger and find in them his saviour. Legend spoke of a warrior destined to save his soul from his perpetual dance. For as long as the sun burned in the sky, he had danced for those who sought to own him. He was as eternal as the ocean, as ageless as the water that flowed through the great kingdoms. As long as the stories of men had existed, so had he, and from the very beginning he had danced. And as long as the days continued to turn into nights, as long as time passed on as it always did, so would he continue to dance.

Through every cycle of the moon, through every change in the season, he waited.

He waited an eternity for the one who would take him away.

Tonight, he found him.

But as the warrior scoffed at the intensity with which the crowd scrutinised him, he accidentally broke the dancer’s gaze. It was perceived as the most outrageous and stubborn refusal possible. He had apparently rejected his role in the most important prophecy known to man. Astounded for the very first time in his very long life, the dancer came to abrupt halt. He glared at the warrior and marched back into his tent with remarkably little grace. With the dance prematurely ended, and the prophecy unfulfilled, the crowd came alive in astonishment. They began to shout and bustle, confused and dissatisfied with the turn of events.

In his tent, the dancer flopped onto a pile of furs in frustration. He’d waited an eternity already. What was an eternity more? He sat in a tangle of his own limbs, a mess of contradicting emotions, and aggressively ignored the entrance of the enormous man who had followed him amidst the hubbub outside.

 “For an ageless creature of beauty and grace, you’re surprisingly gawky,” the warrior said with a voice deep and rough.

 The dancer levelled his warrior with a glower of such heated magnitude it was palpable.

“Why the hell d’you need some bugger to save you when you got that in you?” The other man barked in retaliation. They glared at each for some time, the dancer refusing to speak, the warrior refusing to leave.  It was supposed to be clear without words that his earlier decision had been revoked; the warrior no longer possessed the right to his salvation. But the message was either muddled in transmission, or being completely disregarded.

“Fine,” the warrior grumbled, “s’pose if I’m to save your soul I’d better know what the hell to call you.” The dancer stared in astonishment, what nerve this man had!

“Kurogane,” the man said, indicating at himself lazily, “You?”

Some time passed in awkward silence, the dancer stiffly ignoring his unwanted companion, and yet still the warrior would not leave. He stood by the tent entrance in a state of total ease. He was calm, though clearly annoyed. Or exasperated, it was hard to tell. All these years the dancer had expected the one he was destined to meet would be so caught up in his rapturous beauty, he’d never even have to speak to them. The prophecy would be fulfilled, they would fight the darkness shrouding him and he’d be free of this curse once and for all. He’d finally assume a life that was his own, and his warrior would become a legend for the masses. This man standing before him was nothing like what he had expected, or even wanted. So he could wait another eternity, it was no problem.

But then again, an eternity _was_ a very long time. Even for an ageless creature of beauty and grace. Perhaps a test of loyalty was in order.

“Whatever,” the warrior huffed finally, turning to leave. He was stopped by a lyrical yet commanding voice, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Kurogane.”

“So you speak. You got a name?”

The dancer responded with the hint of a smile and a twinkle in his eye, “Yes.”

“Right. And?”

Blonde hair swooping about him like a shimmering waterfall, the dancer clasped his warrior’s arm and turned to lead him outside. No crowd awaited, but instead a swarm of inky-black beasts surrounded them, seemingly made of both smoke and disgusting ooze. This world was not the same one he had inhabited when he entered the tent. It was darker and covered in a thick, grey fog. Enormous rock formations jutted around them, the stone a sickly purple. The only familiar thing in sight was the tent behind him, same as from the true world, now shrouded by the inky figures. Kurogane conjured his blade and assumed a defensive stance, shielding the dancer from the oozy-smoke creatures as he surveyed their surroundings.

“Are you sure you still want to know my name, Kurogane?” The dancer asked, unnaturally calm in the face of such bizarre danger. Kurogane grunted in response.

“You may call me Fai.”

Kurogane growled in anger and with one fell swoop, sliced through four of the inky beasts and watched their forms dissipate. Grabbing the dancer by the waist he hurled him over his shoulder and ran through the space he had created in the inky-oozy swarm, sprinting and slicing until they reached a more defensible location.

“You’re lying idiot! If I’m gonna die for you here, don’t you dare lie to me,” Kurogane shouted as he tossed the dancer unceremoniously to the ground.

The dancer felt the shackles of his curse weaken and his heart begin to ache again. He stared into the face of his warrior and saw that it was determined, unyielding. The legends were true, this was not a coincidence. Coincidences did not exist. There was only what was destined to happen.

 His destiny was to be saved, and this man was going to save him.

“Yuui,” he said without tremor in his voice, “my name is Yuui.”

It was the beginning of the rest of his life; an eternity worth the wait.


End file.
